


Vacant Hospital Beds

by LozisLaw



Series: Love in the Hospice [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Bitterness, Family Drama, Gentle Kissing, Hospitalization, Hospitals, M/M, Nurses, Promises, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Sick Character, Sickfic, Unrequited Love, don't read this in public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:02:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23752036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LozisLaw/pseuds/LozisLaw
Summary: Stan made a promise.Stan tries to keep it.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh
Series: Love in the Hospice [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691650
Comments: 25
Kudos: 46





	Vacant Hospital Beds

Stan was staring at the television projected from an awkward angle from the room, listlessly watching people on the screen with shiny hair sell houses that shouldn’t be that expensive. The television was at the worst possible angle, in the dead corner nearly connecting to the ceiling. It was annoying, but Stan didn’t really have the energy to fight the nurses about the horrible design. Kyle did, apparently, and he’d been complaining to them every day. Stan just sighed and nodded along with him, surprised he even had the energy to be fighting something that probably wouldn’t matter in the end. They were stuck here, until god stopped teasing them and cut the cord already. That’s all Stan looked forward to these days.

It’s been about 3 months, in and out of hells pass with constant unplanned appointments and check-ups with the disease. It’s gradually become worse, so now both Stan and Kyle were on bedrest, in the hospital room they requested to share. It wasn’t contagious anyway, but doctors took precautions. It was supposedly very rare, one in a million chance, and very interesting according to the doctors that both Stan and his best friend happened to catch it, at the same time, in the same city. A wonderful end to the shitty story that began in the crack town of South Park.

It tended to make Stan drowsy, and he was asleep most days. He wasn’t sure if Kyle was tired a lot, because he was constantly trying to prove to doctors that he was healthy, getting better. Kyle really hated hospitals, and this extended visit was making him bitter in a way that pissed Stan off, if he wasn’t being drugged into complacency. He wasn’t actually sure if he was being doped, it just felt like it. Maybe it was the disease. No one really bothered explaining to them, but at least they bothered to say that it was incurable, and they were most likely going to die from it.

It’s not like Stan had much of a life before, anyway. He worked as Kyle’s assistant at a law firm, from lack of any career that he’d planned for himself. It was Kyle who had a life he was yearning to go back to. Spending all his time with Stan wasn’t the same as it had once been, Stan could tell. He was officially a loser, with no prospects and relationship. The last one he had was five years ago, with this girl from his college language class he ran into, and it wasn’t so much a relationship as it was awkwardly rutting for a two week fling, before Stan cut her off for starting to intrude his life in a way that made him hyperventilate. He was 30 now, and he still he didn’t like making room for new things, it’s probably why he’s still grasping for his high school years. Pretty pointless now, anyway.

The hospital room was reasonably large, with space for crowding family members to say their goodbyes when this disease decided to make its move for real. Stan and Kyle’s parents had visited a few times, checking up on them. Shelley had called, for what felt like an excruciatingly awkward time, both of them pretending to be nice to each other for the first time in their entire lives. Just because Stan’s life was officially worse than Shelley’s now, as though no career or kids or lover wasn’t bad enough. Shelley had all three, but she still felt threatened by Stan for some insane fucking reason Stan fails to understand. Maybe when he was ten his life was enviable, but now it was pitying. Everyone was pitying to him nowadays. Except Kyle, because he was in the same fucking place as him, and being pitied by his folks just as much.

Stan and Kyle had separate beds positioned on the same wall, so they had to turn to talk to each other, when Stan wasn’t sleepy and Kyle wasn’t harassing staff. Kyle was currently reading a book, a few belongings that Sheila brought to him from his house. And Kyle owned his own house, Stan remembered glumly. Stan was renting an apartment, by himself. He tended to feel glad Kyle wasn’t dating anyone, because then his life would become even more unbearable better than Stan’s, even though that was mean. Even in his big house, Kyle was just as alone as Stan.

‘’Which one is that?’’ Stan asked, turning to Kyle, bored of the television. Kyle glanced up from his book to Stan.

‘’Orwell. Appropriately depressing,’’ Kyle said, stewing to himself again and frowning at the book.

‘’Oh,’’ Stan said, finding nothing else to say in response. The awkwardness between them escalated every day, and Stan felt sad about it, but didn’t know what to do about that. Kyle was just pissed off about everything these days, and Stan was tired and vacant most days. They didn’t really talk much, it was too exhausting.

‘’You know you could read too, if you’re bored. I’ve got some others in the box,’’ Kyle said, gesturing to the cardboard box of things Sheila delivered to him.

‘’Nah, reading’s boring,’’ Stan said, fiddling with his blanket. They were told not to stand or walk around, that they were growing too weak to safely walk on their own. Kyle fought them constantly, saying he could go to the goddamn bathroom on his own, but they ignored him and treated them like invalids, which right now they were. Stan couldn’t stand any more, they’d tested a few times, and he just fell over or fainted from the change in pressure. He didn’t really want to get out anymore anyway.

‘’Well, you know, if you’re so bored with the television, get a damn book before interrupting me. It’s a waste of breath,’’ Kyle said angrily. Stan sighed, sorry he said anything.

‘’Sorry,’’ Stan said, rolling his eyes. He turned back and looked back at the television, but he wasn’t really paying attention.

‘’Hey,’’ Kyle said, and Stan turned back to him. Kyle put his book down, and looked at Stan apologetically.

‘’I’m sorry. I know you’re probably feeling as crap as I am. It just feels like everyone is patronising me for not being immune to this thing,’’ Kyle said.

‘’You’re feeling sick?’’ Stan asked, concerned. Kyle seemed glum, but still bitterly angry. He hadn’t seen him smile since he was diagnosed, and Stan only realised then how much he missed it.

‘’I’m so tired all the time, but I can’t sleep on this shitty bed. And it hurts to move, like my bones are achy,’’ Kyle said, pouting to himself. Stan was feeling that achiness too, but he just attributed it to being in bed for a consecutive three weeks, without any exercise. Kyle was skinny, even skinnier than normal, and his bones protruded dangerously out in a way that Stan got sick if he caught a sight of his back or ribcage while the nurses dressed him. Stan looked at himself and realised he looked bony too, in a way that was even more jolting. He used to be fit, he even managed to keep his college abs, but they disappeared after he got sick. Everything had disappeared, except for Kyle, and Kyle was barely here either.

‘’Don’t you want to get out of here? Get better?’’ Kyle asked.

‘’I don’t know. How much better is lying in a house on my own, than a hospital room. I’m just not working now, but how amazing was my job anyway?’’ Stan said. Kyle looked hurt.

‘’You don’t like your job?’’ Kyle asked, and Stan guessed he was taking it personally. He got Stan that job, when Stan was in something of a crisis, and they spent the better part of their day together. Kyle was technically Stan’s boss, but that wasn’t the bad part. Kyle was essentially Stan’s boss in most matters.

‘’I like it, it’s just not really the kind of job that says you’ve got yourself a good career. I’m 30 years old Kyle, I can’t be an assistant my whole life. Well I couldn’t, before the disease fucked us over,’’ Stan said.

‘’You could’ve told me about this, I would’ve looked for another one for you,’’ Kyle said, sadly. Stan huffed, annoyed Kyle was taking it so seriously now, of all times Stan gently implied he wasn’t happy where he was.

‘’I don’t need you finding jobs for me, I can take care of myself,’’ Stan said.

‘’Well go and find yourself one then, if you’re so capable,’’ Kyle said coldly.

‘’Yeah, fucker, and why don’t you try and get out of that bed, see how capable _you_ are right now,’’ Stan said, crossing his arms, sick of Kyle’s petulant attitude. Kyle stared at him, and proceeded to untangle himself from his blankets and swing his legs over the edge of the hospital bed.

‘’Kyle! Stop, you’ll hurt yourself,’’ Stan scolded, turning to face him. Kyle huffed, not acknowledging Stan’s concern, and braced himself on his arms while his legs slipped out into the bare floor. Stan took a moment to stare, feeling horrible that they were so pale and skinny, to an unhealthy degree. He pulled himself to the edge of his bed, ready to catch Kyle if he fell down and cracked his skull or some shit.

‘’Kyle, get into bed, you’re sick. Get over it, and follow the rules,’’ Stan said, pulling his arms out to brace Kyle as he stood up and put his weight down on his legs.

‘’Fuck the rules. I’m a free citizen, and these people are keeping me hostage. I’m fine, see,’’ Kyle said, swaying where he stood. Stan pulled himself further off the bed, prepared to chase Kyle down if he somehow managed to make a run for it. Kyle just looked green, and totally incapable of setting another foot further.

‘’Kyle, get back in bed. You won’t get better if you try to speed the process too soon,’’ Stan said, letting Kyle grip his arms when he swayed forward, trying to stay up. Kyle looked up at Stan, tears thick in his eyes, and Stan’s heart broke. He hated seeing Kyle cry.

‘’I’m not getting better. I’m going to fucking die!’’ Kyle cried, holding Stan’s arms tighter. Stan pulled Kyle closer, letting him rest his head on Stan’s chest. Kyle wailed into Stan’s hospital gown, Stan hadn’t seen him cry so hard since they were in high school, when Sheila forced him to go to school without his ushanka, and Cartman taunted him all day for it. Kyle beat him up, then privately cried into Stan’s chest just like this when they got home.

‘’It’s okay, Kyle. We’ll be fine. We’re always fine, remember?’’ Stan said, patting Kyle’s mop of hair, which needed a wash. Stan didn’t care, he was glad Kyle left it out at all. Kyle moaned, his voice muffled by the gown. Stan sighed, quietly alarmed by how much he missed this, like many others things he’d lost from Kyle over the years.

‘’You promised me, but you’ll survive, and I’ll die here- I know it,’’ Kyle blubbered, sniffling his nose. Stan looked around the room, glad there were no doctors or nurses around.

‘’Here, hop up on my bed,’’ Stan said, patting it. Kyle sniffled, looking so young for a second, when he stared up at Stan with wet eyes. Stan hauled himself back on the bed, and pulled Kyle up with him. Kyle came with him and snuggled around Stan, hiding his face in his chest again. Stan pulled the blankets over them.

‘’You’re so skinny,’’ Kyle mumbled, fiddling with Stan’s forearm, inspecting it.

‘’You’re worse. Have you been eating?’’ Stan said. Kyle made an indecipherable noise.

‘’They’ve been forcing shit down my throat, but I’ve got no appetite,’’ Kyle said.

‘’What were you saying about a promise?’’ Stan said, worried about something he apparently promised, and didn’t remember. Kyle faced him again, then looked down, toying with his gown.

‘’When I needed a kidney transplant, and you tricked Cartman into giving me his. You told me you don’t want me to die until you do.’’ Stan stared at him in surprise.

‘’Dude,’’ Stan said softly, swiftly broken apart by that, like his organs had been dissected on a cold medical table and stuffed back in, too quickly, leaving him mangled.

It was so real now, he didn’t make that promise thinking they’d die together at 30. He’d rather watch Kyle die at 90, and proceed to live until Marvin’s age. Actually, he wouldn’t handle seeing Kyle die period, no matter how long and good his life was. He still believed that with everything.

‘’It’s stupid, I know, but I’ve been believing that forever, since you told me. I don’t think I can forgive you if you die first,’’ Kyle said, his eyes growing wet again. Stan moaned and held Kyle tighter, praying to make him believe that it couldn’t happen. They would make it out together, no matter what happened. That was always true.

Kyle nuzzled into him, and they stayed like that for the rest of the day, both of them exhausted from the illness. They fell asleep like that, Kyle cuddled inside Stan’s warm embrace.

Stan awoke with a doctor hovering around his face, flashing a light into his eyes. Stan blinked, groping for Kyle before he could see, and giddy when he was still wrapped up in his arms, dozing peacefully, at least until the doctor prodded him awake. Kyle groaned, shooting the doctor a cold glare. He hated that doctor, just for being present most of time, he told Stan prior to this.

Kyle let the doctor inspect him listlessly, used to it now. He gave Stan an irritable look, when they forced him to go back to his own bed. Stan felt anxious by that, and suddenly needed Kyle there beside him, the other bed felt like a world away from him. It felt right when they hugged each other to dopey sleep.

‘’Can I suggest, maybe, moving the beds so they’re connected at least,’’ Stan said, pleading with his eyes as best he could to the doctor. Kyle stared at him, his eyes wide. He looked curious about that idea. The doctor referred to the nurse about it, and she shrugged, as though there wasn’t a problem with that.

‘’I suppose that won’t be much of an issue. As long as we can administer medicine to the both of you when required,’’ The doctor said. Stan nodded, ready to agree with any conditions as long as he could have Kyle in his now gaunt arms. Kyle sat up, like he was ready to proceed already, like he could hardly wait either.

The nurses pushed Kyle’s bed with Kyle on it, dragging it over to Stan’s and lining them up. As soon as they were together, Kyle fell into Stan’s arms, already outstretched, waiting for him. Yeah, he belonged here. Right here. Kyle sighed, fitting his arms tight across Stan’s back, holding him against Kyle’s head.

‘’That’s better,’’ Kyle muttered, closing his eyes. Stan closed his too, ready to fall asleep again. His legs were sore, from disuse, and he was feeling a weird light-headedness. He attributed it to finally having Kyle safe under his protection again, just like when they were kids.

**

The next few days were good. Both Stan and Kyle’s illnesses seemed to take a hiatus on destroying their bodies, giving them a few days of gradually less painful movement and breathing. Stan was feeling almost good enough to get up from the bed and walk around. He was dying for some orange candy. It was weird, especially just for the one colour, but apparently Kyle was having unusual cravings too, wanting strawberry jello with roast beef and mayonnaise, mixed together. The doctors allowed Kyle the jello, and one nurse had been nice enough to buy Stan a pack of candy corn from the vending machine. Other than that, they had to stick to a diet that ensure their lean bodies get the proper nutrients. Unfortunately for Kyle, that didn’t include Roast beef with mayo.

Kyle read his novels still, but mostly out loud for Stan to listen. Most times they did this, Kyle was snuggled in Stan’s chest, holding the book in front of him while he read. Stan didn’t really listen, just liked hearing Kyle’s voice, which was sounding stronger every day. There were moments that he sounded so much like he used to, that Stan would have to look at him to make sure. But the disappointment followed, because Kyle’s eyes were still dimmer, and his face was thin and worn, tired. Probably the same as Stan’s. Stan stopped looking at himself a few weeks ago, depressed by the sickly creature staring back at him, and knowing what it used to be.

It was on one of their good days that both of their parents came to the hospital to visit. Stan and Kyle didn’t really need to do anything, just sit there and look sick, which was no struggle. The nurses kept the room clean anyway, so all they did was anticipate the joint meeting of families.

‘’I wonder what my dad looks like now,’’ Stan said, when they were discussing possible outcomes of this debacle of parents. Kyle snorted.

‘’Probably like a salt and pepper shaker, only old and frail. When’s that man going to die?’’ Kyle asked.

‘’Probably in another hundred years, if he’s anything like my grandpa,’’ Stan said.

‘’He did get pretty old. How old was he when he died?’’ Kyle asked.

‘’Hundred and ten,’’ Stan answered. Kyle sputtered.

‘’Shit. So we’ve got a while of Randy jacking shit up to go,’’ Kyle said.

‘’Longer than me anyway,’’ Stan said, shrugging this off. It wasn’t news anymore that he wasn’t going to continue out of these hospitals doors. He’d made his peace with it, sort of.

‘’Don’t say that. If anything, I’ll die here and you’ll get to continue working off my office’s clients,’’ Kyle said. Stan turned Kyle to him.

‘’Bullshit. You’ve had health scares before, that means you’re tougher than anyone at fighting this thing off,’’ Stan said, trying to convince himself of this more than Kyle.

‘’ _Stan_. That only means I’m even weaker. It’s a miracle the kidney failure, haemorrhoids, and fucking aids hasn’t killed me already. I’m on my last straw. You know it’s true,’’ Kyle said. Stan shook his head, holding Kyle tighter.

‘’No. You’re strong. You’re the toughest person I know,’’ Stan said. Kyle scoffed, but he fell into Stan’s embrace anyway. They stayed that way without any other words, Stan holding Kyle tightly and making oaths to himself to fight anyone to death who dare think this is the last of Kyle Broflovski. It fucking wasn’t. He was making it out of here.

‘’It’s silly,’’ Kyle mumbled, against Stan’s patient gown, after a long silence.

‘’What?’’ Stan asked.

‘’Just how I can feel your heart beating against my ear. It’s silly how comforting that is,’’ Kyle said.

‘’Oh. Well, that’s okay, I’ll do anything you need. You know that by now,’’ Stan said, hoping Kyle did. He wasn’t so sure sometimes.

‘’Yeah. I know,’’ Kyle said, and they didn’t say anything else.

A few hours later, their parents arrived, along with Ike and his wife. Kyle scowled upon seeing her. They had mutual disagreements. Stan’s mother kissed his forehead, giving him some flowers with multiple colours. Stan couldn’t name most of them, but he appreciated it regardless.

‘’Hey, baby. How are you holding up?’’ Sharon asked. They still had the beds positioned together, but Kyle was on his own side now, accepting hugs from Sheila and Gerald, and one awkward one from Ike and his wife. Anita, was her name, Stan remembered, recounting unflattering things Kyle said about her in private.

‘’I’m okay,’’ Stan said, giving his mother a smile. He knew how easily she broke apart from this, and he wanted her to hold it together for her own sake.

‘’Are you eating okay?’’ Sharon asked, softly touching Stan’s elbow.

‘’Yeah, I’ve got a dietary plan form the doctors. Just tired,’’ Stan said. He glanced over his mom’s shoulder where Randy was hanging out by the edge of the bed.

‘’Hey dad,’’ Stan said. Randy came over, giving Stan a big hug.

‘’Hey, pal. How’s it going,’’ Randy said, sounding pitying. It could be in Stan’s head, but Randy was known for this.

‘’Fine. How about you?’’ Stan asked.

‘’I’m okay, buddy. The farm’s going pretty great right now. You know if you want, I could get you some special medicinal kush I made, could take the edge off,’’ Randy offered. His mom hit Randy’s arm in admonishment, then looked back at Stan with apology.

‘’I think that would kill me quicker, but thanks anyway,’’ Stan said, because it was a generous offer. His dad was just a dumbass, that wasn’t new.

‘’Oi, Sharon, isn’t it terrible!’’ Sheila exclaimed tearily, petting Kyle’s hair while he grumbled in annoyance. He swatted her off, and Stan chuckled under his breath. Kyle gave him a wicked smirk.

‘’You guys are looking fresher though. I take it’s going okay right now?’’ Sharon said. Kyle shrugged.

‘’As fresh as a carcass can look anyway,’’ Kyle said. Stan guffawed.

‘’Kyle! Enough of that sass. You’re doing well, the doctors say so,’’ Sheila said

‘’I feel like the doctors are discussing the illness in my body, to you, more than the guy who’s actually suffering from it,’’ Kyle said.

‘’Psshh, that’s not true, bubbeh. We only want to know the basics, since you won’t tell us anything,’’ Sheila said. Kyle huffed, leaning back into the pillows propped up behind him.

‘’And we need to make sure you’re not harassing Stanley in your aggravated state,’’ Sheila said, but then her mouth twitched with a smile. Kyle watched her with his eyes narrowed. What did the doctors know? That they spent their days cuddling like panda bears. It would be embarrassing, for Sheila to know that, but it didn’t really matter much now. They were dying, it was warranted.

‘’Stan’s been a better crutch right now than the fucking doctors in this hell,’’ Kyle said.

‘’They’re doing their best,’’ Stan amended, for make up for Kyle’s bitter pessimism. Sheila looked like she wanted to argue further, but the nurse entered the room again to check their vitals.

‘’Just make sure you listen to them, bubbeh,’’ Sheila said instead, moving out of the way for the nurse. Kyle grumbled as she checked the monitor keeping his heart rate, fiddling with the cord attached to his chest. Stan watched, and listlessly allowed the nurse to proceed with his own.

‘’How’re they doing, nurse?’’ Gerald asked.

‘’The illness has remained dormant presently, but the risk of the symptoms flaring up again are imminent, so we have to watch their vitals as often as we can,’’ Nurse Becky said. She was nice, a little pushy, but Stan was just glad she was there. Kyle hated her, but what else was new?

‘’Is there no treatment for them to make a full recovery? Or at least a partial one?’’ Sharon asked, holding her chest worryingly.

‘’I’m afraid we don’t know enough about it to make any informative decision for treatment. The risk of experimental medication would likely hinder the process at this late stage. The most we can do is wait, and see if any changes occur,’’ Nurse Becky said, a hint of regret in her tone. Stan knew this stuff, it’s what squashed his hope for recovery in the first place. He was going to fucking die.

‘’Oh, Randy!’’ Sharon exclaimed, turning to him and crying into his chest. Stan watched, then turned to Kyle’s parents when he heard sobs coming from their side of the bed. Gerald was holding Sheila as she crumbled, Ike patting her shoulder comfortingly. Stan turned his gaze onto Kyle, who was glaring straight ahead, his arms crossed. Kyle noticed Stan staring, and turned to him with annoyance, then his face softened.

‘’You okay?’’ Stan asked, a stupid question. He just needed to know anyway. Kyle huffed, and grabbed Stan’s hand at his side, squeezing tightly.

‘’I’m fucking angry, if you didn’t notice,’’ Kyle said, malice in his tone, but it didn’t seem directed at Stan. He sighed, glancing back to their parents, who were trying to suck their tears back up and look professional. The nurse had vacated the room, smartly.

‘’I know. Me too,’’ Stan said, though he wasn’t angry at the illness and it’s slow possession of Stan’s body. He was angry at himself, for not doing anything about the rift that he’d had with Kyle for the last five years. They were better than that, and now the only time he could be there for Kyle like he truly needed was on their death bed. He’d wasted his life, doing nothing about this, this pain in his chest that he’d only recently figured out. Too recently, because he couldn’t move now, do anything to change this. He squeezed Kyle’s hand again, and they waited for their parents to calm down.

Ever since coming to Hell’s pass, family visits had been painful at worst, awkward at best. Stan was relieved when they left, then just felt sad, because it could’ve been the last time he saw them. No one knew anything about this disease, they didn’t know when it would strike. When their parents left the room, Kyle seemed to have it in mind the same instant Stan did, and shimmied over to Stan’s embrace just as Stan held his arms out to catch him. Joining together again was like a simultaneous sigh, this satisfying sound when Kyle laid on Stan’s chest that felt so right it was freaky, only it was just perfect. Stan scratched his fingers through Kyle’s hair, mussing his curls, while Kyle hummed and closed his eyes, shifting in giddy contentment.

‘’I really can’t stand Anita,’’ Kyle said after a moment of silence.

‘’She’s not that bad, just because she doesn’t appreciate being corrected, which you’re known to do,’’ Stan said, in some amusement, because Kyle’s feud with Ike’s wife had become something of a comedy in the Broflovski household. Kyle didn’t agree.

‘’That woman needs to be corrected, every second word she spouts off is bullshit. I’m disappointed in Ike for lowering his standards so much’’ Kyle said, wrinkling his nose.

‘’Aww, but he loves her, right? That’s all that matters in the end,’’ Stan said. Kyle scoffed.

‘’If you actually believe that, it makes sense you couldn’t keep a girlfriend,’’ Kyle said. Stan ignored that insult, figuring Kyle was just throwing his bitterness onto everything else right now.

‘’Well, it’s easier now. Imagine that showcase before with the addition of a hysterical crying girlfriend,’’ Stan said, snorting at the image. Kyle giggled. It was such a cute little laugh, making Kyle’s narrow shoulders bounce with the convulsion of giggles overtaking his body. It was so irresistible, Stan moaned with the need to hoard Kyle closer, try and protect him from this thing. He pretended that he actually could, at that moment. Kyle allowed Stan to pull him further, and he dropped his bent legs on top of Stan’s, curling up.

‘’Hey, Stan?’’ Kyle asked, softly.

‘’Hmm?’’

‘’Did you actually like working with me, or did you just want a job?’’ Kyle asked, looking at Stan with big, sad eyes.

‘’Of course I love working with you. That’s all I ever want, for us to be closer. I’m sorry I was so ungrateful for it at the time,’’ Stan said, remorseful.

‘’I did miss it, working together, from before. It’s kinda why I offered,’’ Kyle said. Stan nodded. Talking about college, how they used to share everything, from their dorm to toothpaste, they were closer than they’d ever been before. It was like the final step from high school, where they could physically live together, having sleepovers every night, it felt like. Stan sometimes felt like he was still living in those days, avoiding reality. The shock of life after college was enough to scare Stan out of his initial career choice, when he suddenly wasn’t living with Kyle anymore, or seeing him much anymore, after Kyle had been offered a job in Denver working for a big fancy law firm that had way too many last names in the title. Stan hated that place, hated Kyle working there, because suddenly the sun to his orbiting planet didn’t need him anymore, and Stan had to find a new one. He didn’t, and ended up just crawling back to Kyle when he realised his life sucked, and didn’t have a job. They never did get back to that, the glory of the old days.

‘’I wish we could reverse time, and just live in the college days forever,’’ Stan said. Kyle laughed.

‘’God, that sounds miserable. Remember Kenny, how he used to get so wasted on our couch at parties and pass out for the next two days, rambling in his sleep about how his family was going to come by and steal all of his money and food and leave. So bleak,’’ Kyle said. Kenny was working in South Park as a technician, fixing car radiators for travellers. He came by to visit them in the hospital once, but he has yet to make a reappearance. When he came last time, Kyle started throwing books at him, claiming he was rubbing it in their faces for being alive and healthy. Kenny was light-hearted about it, but he seemed perturbed afterwards. Stan figured it was pity or something. Stan doesn’t believe that was the last time they’ll see him, Kenny has an otherworldly thing about him. Stan figured they’d cross paths as stars at some point or something, liking the idea of Kyle as a star.

‘’I just miss how close we were in college. Like how you let me use your toothbrush sometimes, even though you hate germs, even mine,’’ Stan said. Kyle smirked.

‘’As chef always said, there was a time and place for everything. And that’s college. I figured I could give you that win, since you’d obviously obsess over it ten years later,’’ Kyle said.

‘’I obsess over everything that happened at college. Like Steven’s party,’’ Stan said, wondering if Kyle remembered. Kyle guffawed.

‘’I was fucking drunk from Kenny’s shitty booze, I didn’t even know what I was doing,’’ Kyle said fervently, crossing his arms. Stan smiled at the memory.

They were all drunk at the party, but Stan was at the beautiful point of drunkenness where everything was perfect, and nobody could do wrong. Also the point where he would remember everything. Kyle was drunker, his lightweight ass getting a bigger kick out of Kenny’s shitty liquor than anyone. Halfway through dancing like a monkey with socks on, he pulled Stan out of the fray of music and kissed him smack bang on the lips. Stan was drunk enough to laugh at it, after he made out with him for a few minutes, or hours, enjoying the feeling of Kyle’s tongue coursing over his own with drunken passion. He angst over it for a while, after the morning when Kyle decided to not bring it up at all, pretending he didn’t remember. Stan remembered everything, this was actually the first time he brought it up since college. He was glad Kyle remembered, if nothing else.

‘’I thought you were going to keep pretending it never happened?’’ Stan said, feeling less anxious now, maybe because so much time had passed, maybe because he was on his deathbed, essentially. Kyle huffed, holding onto Stan’s hand and inspecting it with a scowl, avoiding Stan’s eyes.

‘’You seemed like you wanted to just go back to normal, so I just went with it, no matter you didn’t ask my opinion about the kiss,’’ Kyle said.

‘’I was just going along with you, since you seemed to want to forget,’’ Stan said, frowning.

‘’Regardless, it has no bearing on our lives now,’’ Kyle said with a weak wave of his hand. ‘’We may as well be dead, so it doesn’t matter if it was planned or not.’’

Stan frowned, his brows furrowing. ‘’Wait? Planned?’’

Kyle huffed again, releasing Stan’s hand and crossing his arms again.

‘’Well, it was hardly an accident that I got drunk enough to not care if I finally kissed you, since you weren’t taking any fucking initiative,’’ Kyle said, looking down at the blankets strewn across their legs. Stan was gaping with his mouth open, confused.

‘’Wait- you- initiative? You wanted? What?’’ Stan boggled, trying to make sense of his words. Kyle laughed, his voice seeming more clear and cutting than usual.

‘’Has it really come to this, huh? Coming out on my deathbed, wow,’’ Kyle laughed, filling the otherwise silent room with his derisive laughter. Stan was still gaping, waiting for this to be explained.

‘’So you really still don’t realise? Wow, Stan. I was certain, for so many years, but wow. Yeah, makes sense, I guess, when the fuck has life done me right? You didn’t know how many years I was in love with you, hell, still am. Fitting end, I guess. God’s fucked me over so many times, better finish me off by killing me. I’d rather die, I think, than live any longer knowing that you were so fucking oblivious all this fucking time,’’ Kyle said, his voice getting angrier and sharper with every word. He sat up, away from Stan’s chest, wearing an infuriated expression, while Stan still gaped like a moron.

Stan still didn’t understand, couldn’t accept that truth even as Kyle professed it himself. It was so shocking, that his chest pound faster at the idea, what it meant. He continued to stare at Kyle, and reached to hold his hand again. Kyle scowled and moved his hand away before he could.

‘’I think I’d like my bed back,’’ Kyle said, his words poisoning Stan’s heart like a knife, stabbing him repeatedly. He was talking before he caught himself.

‘’No! Kyle, don’t, please. I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry. I should’ve, god I should’ve. I feel like I was too scared to hope for anything, but I know. I know so fucking much, please,’’ Stan begged, not sure what he was trying to say, but needing Kyle with him so much, that he may as well rip his organs out and gift them to him, to show him what belongs to him, what would be destroyed without him. Absolutely everything. Kyle stared at him, not moving.

‘’How do you know?’’ Kyle asked, the accusation outweighing the curiosity, but it was still there. Stan took a breath, he felt like he had one chance here, and Kyle’s warmth against him was on the line here. Stan sat up properly, not about to screw this up.

‘’Okay. You were right, I had no idea you felt that way. Because the whole time, I was so obsessed with you and panicking that you might find out, and stop being my best friend, or something, that I just hid that deep down, and never let my guard down and be exposed. It was so much harder when I was drunk, and that night. I was in heaven that whole time, I was so fucking thrilled that you did that, that we did it, that it broke me when we pretended it didn’t happen. I just thought you were embarrassed, cause you didn’t realise it was me or something when you got drunk. And I kept ignoring it, all this time, because I need you so much that I’d rather die with you held in my arms than continue to live knowing you didn’t feel the same, and have an even bigger rift between us,’’ Stan said, breathing out, knowing he was rambling too much, blowing it so fucking badly. Kyle was staring back, still angry. He just needed to finally get this out there, even if it wasn’t handled well. It was like a two pound weight had been finally dropped from his shoulders, even if the change of pressure made him feel more vulnerable than ever before.

‘’Well uh! Fuck Stan,’’ Kyle said, throwing his arms out, appealing around him for some help, though the room was empty aside from the thick tension drowning them.

‘’I’m sorry. You always seemed above it all anyway, so I thought I’d just fuck it up anyway,’’ Stan said.

‘’Oh, fuck you Stan!’’ Kyle said harshly, surprising Stan. Stan boggled at him, and Kyle went brilliant red, still glaring at him.

‘’Huh?’’

‘’Do you realise how bullshit that sounds to me now? I finally come out to you thinking I’d die hearing you say how sorry you are that you don’t feel the same, and instead you feel the same. This is so much fucking worse, because the one time I can know for sure, we’re fucking strapped to our hospital beds about to die, too sick to do anything about it. Because I don’t think you quite grasp the significance of it,’’ Kyle said, turning a menacing glare at him, though now he seemed to be directing his anger onto the disease more than Stan.

‘’Well, it’s not too late to do nothing about it,’’ Stan said hopefully, holding his arms out again. Kyle scowled, didn’t move any closer.

‘’You don’t understand, it is too late. Because I’m too fucking weak to be able to do more than cuddle into you, and even that is so tiring I pass out every time. You don’t realise how much I’ve thought about it, how many fucking times I’ve gone home after seeing you around at work all day, and jerked off to you growing some balls and taking me, against the desk, propped up on the walls, on top of the fucking printer! And don’t even get me started on my goddamn teenage years, Jesus Christ. My childhood bedroom is desecrated with fantasies involving you rubbing yourself against me. So don’t fucking tell me it’s not too late, because everything I want to do is too late,’’ Kyle said. Stan parted his mouth in surprise.

‘’Did any of your fantasies involve us kissing?’’ Stan asked, trying to comprehend everything Kyle had confessed. Kyle leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Stan.

‘’Every. Single. Goddamn. One,’’ Kyle said, hissing around every syllable.

‘’I love you,’’ Stan said, before mustering up the most strength he could find in his shaky sick excuse for a body and kissing Kyle. He grabbed Kyle’s face and held it close to his own, and licked into him, once, twice and kept going. He pulled back just when he realised Kyle hadn’t reciprocated, and checked his face. Kyle’s eyes were open, staring at Stan in surprise, before hardening once again.

‘’Sorry,’’ Stan said, wincing when he realised how many times he’d said that in this conversation. Though it felt more like a tumbling confession that involved blindly being thrown off a cliff and praying to land without breaking too many bones.

‘’Well, shit. It took you long enough,’’ Kyle said with a huff, before jumping back onto Stan with surprising vigour and kissing him again, pushing him back against the raised up back rest of the bed. Stan held him, still concerned about his strength to be doing this without exerting himself, but then Kyle opened his mouth, pressing his tongue into Stan’s mouth slowly and decisively, and he got distracted. Kyle flattened himself against Stan, and Stan could feel his bony shoulders and hips pressing back painfully into Stan’s weak body. He could tell Kyle felt it, tensing, and pulling away from Stan’s lips. Stan’s eyes were dazed over, and he didn’t place the wet noises coming from Kyle until he felt the first heavy jerk of crying in Kyle’s shoulders. Stan pulled Kyle’s face up to face him again, and Kyle was dribbling tears down his face, whimpering and making heartbreaking little wet noises, that ripped Stan’s heart out right from his ribs, cracking everything apart.

‘’It- it hurts. I can’t- do it. I can’t do it, it hurts too much,’’ Kyle blubbered, falling to Stan’s chest and crying harder. Stan’s eyes got wet hearing him fall apart, and he had to control his breathing to stop it from hitching. He knew, and he was about to say it. It was hurting them to kiss, and they couldn’t even do that now, even when they tried so hard to believe they could. Because of a fucking evil disease, that was slowly killing their souls, as well as their bodies.

‘’I wish I did something sooner, I’m so sorry Ky. I hate myself so fucking much,’’ Stan said, his throat tightening and suffocating him while he choked up. Kyle brought his face up and nuzzled it on Stan’s cheek, wetting them both more with tears. Kyle breathed in, letting more slip down his face, sliding down his neck, and wetting Stan’s hospital gown. Stan was so grateful for it, but maybe for the first time since he’d heard the news, he didn’t want to go. He needed to make sure Kyle was okay. He would die anyway if Kyle left him.

‘’Don’t- don’t hate yourself. I love you,’’ Kyle said, breathing in fast and trying to regulate himself. Stan turned him to lie on his side on the bed, and turned to face him, drawing him close and clinging.

‘’I love you,’’ Stan cried, putting his face in Kyle’s hair. It smelt like the therapy candles the nurses placed in the room and hospital shampoo, and it made Stan cry harder. Kyle nuzzled into his chest, wetting the gown to Stan’s skin with his tears, holding him as close as they could manage without the pain of their bones getting worse. It did anyway, and they clung for dear life anyway. Kyle kept whispering _I love you_ in harsh pants of breath, as if it was a mantra that could somehow save them both from this. Stan tried so damn hard to believe it could, for Kyle’s sake. He couldn’t kept denying to himself that it was the end, for both of them, he kept the stubborn hope that Kyle would come out okay, even if it broke their promise.

_I don’t want you to die until I do_

They were both exhausted, passing out with the promises they kept close all those years on their lips, and the throbbing pain of a foreign killer taking over their bones, making them hurt from moving in the slightest. So they didn’t.

Stan dreamed about school. About the snowy bus stop that faded into focus the closer he walked towards it, like a beacon he couldn’t understand, but tried to habit anyway. The pine trees were dusted with light powdered snow that trickled from the blank white sky, creating a flurry of vision that obscured Stan’s destination. He still sought out the bus stop. It kept edging away, as though on a treadmill of landscape that tricked Stan’s eyes. When he looked down on himself in frustration from not getting any closer, he saw himself wearing little red mittens, had little child hands, was a child. It didn’t matter, because his goal was only edging further away. He took off one mitten, throwing it into the snow, as though the less weight one that hand would help him get the bus stop, which was blurring further and further away, as though it was a dream itself. Tears pricked at his eyes as the snow cut his cheek, slicing it into a million pinpricks of torment. He knew there was something there, something he needed, and he wouldn’t survive without it. His time was running out, he could feel it blaring into his chest like a ticking bomb. The storm grew, and less yellow was seen than white, completely obscuring his eyesight. Stan blindly felt around, as though he would find anything else other than pine trees to grasp in the infinite snow. His whole body was freezing over, making it harder and harder to walk. Finally he felt something hit his ungloved hand, shocking back the frozen pain of his fingers with a disturbing pang of shakes. He grabbed the pole of bus stop sign, letting it’s cold metal stick to Stan’s naked hand and glue it in place, shooting a spike of electric jolts up his spine and into his brain. He looked down into the snow, seeing green, and thinking it was summer, the grass coming back to end the cold storm freezing his body in place at the sign. He leaned down and dug the green out, and pulled a buried green mitten from the snow. He looked around for the owner, finding nothing but blizzard surrounding him, so strong that it pulled the green mitten out of his shaking hands and into the infinite blizzard, impossible to see. It was gone. Stan took off his other glove, and let it fly away into the blizzard, before the blizzard finally took his nerves, and shocked him into collapsing on the cold snowy ground.

Stan splintered his eyes open, feeling everything muggy, and cold. He was sweating, badly, but he found he couldn’t adjust his position if he tried. His bones. He could feel them, every inch of their being was screaming in torment, begging Stan to stop, as though he could do anything about it. He couldn’t move anymore than slowly open his eyes, letting more blinding light into his vision. He saw green again, but this one was staring back at him with equal parts pain and resignation.

Kyle didn’t move, kept his lowered eyes on Stan, as Stan adjusted to the light again, and realised where he was. The snow was gone, the blizzard gone. He was in the hospital, Kyle was lying beside him, facing him, trying to open his mouth, and failing to utter anything. Stan could do more than groggily blink, feeling his nerves tingling with the throbbing torment of his bones. It was time.

‘’ _Stan_ ,’’ Kyle weakly croaked, his voice barely audible, only hearing _Sta-_. Stan felt himself leaving, and tried hard to stay awake, but Kyle’ eyes were closed again, asleep. Out of pain, his face serene and calm. Stan closed his eyes again, and let go.

Stan was in the dark, a deep end of a black twisting sensation. The pool was calling him to enter, a soft hiss that felt familiar. He felt only his mind, the pain completely washed away like a gentle morning wave, leaving only consciousness. The dark was calling, it felt warm and cool, soft and sharp, pleasant tingles of mindlessness infiltrated everywhere, leaving only dark. It was dark, pleasant. Stan fell into the calling pool, sighing his name, sizzling him away into nothing but mind, and then nothing. Dark. Cool. A relief, and he let it flood.

At peace, finally.

**Author's Note:**

> Something to take away from this, that I hope has been conveyed to readers.
> 
> Don't wait for something, because you might find that if you wait too long, it'll be too late. Tell the people you love, that you love them. Life goes by so damn quickly, and if you keep your true feelings hidden, you'll find you have regrets, when the time to come passes, and you missed your chance. Things seem like they last forever, but they don't. Everything ends.


End file.
